What Happened on 911
by Inky-Paws
Summary: 9/11 was a shock for the world. It killed many innocent people and hurt even more. But how did it affect Aph America? And, even more, how did it affect his friends and family? ***ON HIATUS/BEING EDITED***
1. Prologue

**Hey you guys! This is my first attempt at fanfiction, I hope you like it! Just as a pre-warning, this fanfiction isn't strictly abiding to what happened on 9/11. The crucial details will be there, but I will probably make up some minor details.**

 **Prologue**

 **America's P.O.V.**

Alfred was walking home from a world meeting, grumbling to himself, mildly annoyed by Arthur's remarks to his ideas. "That stupid jerk Arthur. Why is it always me he pokes at? I mean, I know there was that whole Revolutionary War thing, and then the War of 1812, but I mean- Come on! Both happened years ago... then again, he could still be mad about..." Alfred walked home, immersed deep in thought. The air was cool and crisp, the beginnings of early-Autumn weather. Shrieks of joy coming from a children's park a few blocks away were audible, mostly consisting of, "Come on!", "You can do it!" and, "Great kick!" Despite his annoyance, Alfred smiled to himself. Despite how quickly the world was changing, the endearing innocence of children never seemed to go away.

As Alfred neared his house, he reached for his keys, then sharply stopped and frowned. Something was off, but he couldn't place his finger on it. There was this drearily ominous feeling of deep forboding in the air, like the trepidation a mouse might undergo before being ambushed by a cat. Shaking the feeling off, Alfred continued on to his doorstep and unlocked his door. It was probably just him. And yet, as he entered his house, the terror and semblance that something terrible may happen greatly increased. This time he couldn't shake it off.

Moments later, pain rocked through his body and he promptly crumbled to the floor, his head pounding as it struck the ground, his body spasming, and his mouth spitting blood. Horrified, he now stared at opening wounds to his chest, arms, legs, and feet, cupping his hand to his mouth. Burns started spotting his body and his body temperature greatly increased. But how was this happening? He wasn't present in any sort of battle at the present moment, he just got home from a meeting! So that meant... "Terrorist attack..." He whispered, horrified, between coughs of blood. That was the moment when his mind and body, spent, badly injured, and broken, blacked out.

 **Hehe! That was fun! I hope you enjoyed this. Sorry again if this was terrible, this is my first attempt at writing fanfiction. Please leave some form of review or a suggestion telling me if I should continue this, what you liked, what you didn't like, etc. That way I can improve my writing. Thanks for reading!**

Also, as an afterthought to clear things up, this series will be mainly focusing on other countries' opinions on the 9/11 attacks. For example, for one chapter, I want to give what I think England's opinion is, for another I want to give Russia's, for another I want to give Canada's, and so on and so forth. Let me know if you want to see any country in particular!


	2. Chapter 1

**Hey! I hope you like this week's chapter, enjoy!** **Also, apologies in advance for bad grammar and wordiness. I'm trying to work on that!**

 **Chapter 1**

 **England's P.O.V.**

I sat beside the hospital bed, thinking to myself. White-bleached walls surrounded me on all sides, completley devoid of color except for a few pinned-up Get Well! cards. A pale gray bedside table with bronze knobs sat beside the bed, decorated with a washed-out, lazy-yellow colored vase with some sunflowers that were just starting to wilt.

Alfred lay in the bed beside me, chest moving with every breath, but only faintly with the slightest prominence. Despite the dreary and terminal appearance of his condition, the doctors said that he should recover soon and it wasn't as bad as it certainly looked, he'd be fine soon, for the time being we should just take turns keeping an eye on him. Not that I necessarily believed that. Yes, physically, he should be just fine, but mentally? Attacks like this tend to affect a country's personality. For all we know, he could be a completely different person when he wakes up.

I clenched my fist. I remember him as a child, all light and carefree and happy. Then I remember him as a teenager, spunky and full of life, cheerful, but with an aura that meant business- disregard him, you could make a powerful foe to thwart. I learned that quickly. But even as a teen, there was still an air of innocent naivety and blissful ignorance, like he had yet to learn the truth about being a country. As a young adult, he was- and still is, possessing a spunk and semblance of a free spirit and the spark of youth. But if you really, truly angered him, you'd learn that he wasn't all fun and games. There was and is a reason for all the battles he's won. And now- seeing him bedridden and unconscious gives me a feeling of anger and sadness. His aura now no longer holds the ambiance of spunk, it carries the cries of the mourning and the seriousness of those about to take action.

Alfred's breath started rattling suddenly, and I almost instantaneously snapped out of my thoughts and back to reality. It stabilized quickly after, but it was enough to give me a scare. Everytime his breath shook, it installed a recurring fear that it might be his last. After my beating heart slows, I drift back to my thoughts, considering my people's general reaction. Some greatly varied, what with some people thinking that America as a whole deserved it for being so lighthearted and careless, but the majority consisted of abject pity, disgust, horror, disbelief, and a chaotic confusion that installed fear that it if it can happen to them, it can happen to us. One of the most empowering reactions was Buckingham Palace's response to the attacks. Just 2 days after the strikes, on September 13, at the Changing of the Guard ceremony, they played the U.S. anthem and a 2-minute silence was observed. I slightly smile at remembering that. The sympathy and sorrow that had emanated from the ceremony was contagious.

I drifted deeper into my thoughts until the sound of someone emtering the room stirred me. All of a sudden, I felt the presence of someone behind me and a hand lightly resting on my left shoulder as a way to rouse me. Kiku smiled faintly down at me. "Shall we switch off?"

 **Japan's P.O.V.**

As Arthur left the room I sat down where he had sat and stared at the door, even after he left. I could tell he was hurting inside. He had put on a stoical face and tried not to show any emotion, but he really was hurting inside. It didn't help that on top of his worry for Alfred, his country had lost 67 victims to the attacks. No one would have blamed him for crying over the loss, but he had steeled himself to emotion and clearly was trying to hide all traces of his pain and sorrow. Even though Matthew had approached him and told him that it was fine for him to cry, he still stubbornly refused to show any shape or form of tears.

I reverted my gaze back to Alfred, who's breathing had not changed since earlier, when it had started rattling like the dust and crumbling concrete and raised dirt that made it hard for his people near the affected areas to breathe. I leaned forward, with my elbows on my knees and sank into the chair, and proceeded to sigh deeply. The attacks had hurt all of us. My people had lost 24 victims, though that was barely a hundredth of what America had lost, his total being 2,605 victims and counting. And that didn't even count the wounded and the displaced. Most of the dead and wounded were civilians and not anyone that any of us had any personal connections with, but in a way, that made it hurt all the more. Somehow, knowing that innocent people had gotten hurt whose names we had never originally heard of prior to the current events made the grief and guilt a whole lot worse. The fact that many had died with us never hearing of their name prior was extremely depressing and guilt-bearing, for all of us.

Alfred sighed deeply in his sleep, a great, big, shaking, sigh and I leaned even further on my knees as the chair nearly tipped over. These attacks had scared my people. Now many were afraid of the planes, that any one of them could carry people just waiting to crash them into some big building with many people. They, pitied, they prayed, they hoped that things would get better and that these incidents wouldn't happen here or anywhere else. They prayed that things wouldn't get worse and their children would be safe and unharmed. I was proud of them for that, for the prayers sent and the sympathy exhibited to the Americans brethren that they knew, were friends with. It gave me hope for them.

I folded my hands together and rested my head on them, in a prayer-like position except lacking good posture. Alfred... we had never been too close, at least not as close as me, Ludwig, and Feliciano, but we still were good friends. He might have been loud and annoying and obnoxious and he might have carried the tendancy to greatly exasperate and vex everyone around him, but he certainly didn't deserve this. No one deserved this. Alfred was the person with the talent to make us smile while sad, the talent to appease us with crappy and terrible, but yet somehow funny remarks and jokes. He was the person who was always optimistic no matter the situation and he always came through when we needed him most, no matter the situation. He was the person who was always smiling, laughing, making us laugh in the most tediously serious of moments, even if the laughter was at his own clumsy stupidity. So why would someone do this?

 **Hey! You still (magically, mysteriously) here? (For what reason, I don't know, but whatever) Great! Once again, please leave some sort of review suggesting anything I should work on or if you have any character suggestions, please send them! Thanks for spending the time to read this!**

 **Ciao!**

Buckingham Palace did actually play the U.S. anthem after 9/11 on September 13 at the Changing of the Guard ceremony. There are videos online of them playing it, go check them out!


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